Small black fine line butterfly with a dotted swirl trail on the outer ankle of a leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Butterfly and dotted swirl on the ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small butterfly with delicate black outlines and partly filled wings sits on the lower leg just above the ankle bone. A thin dotted line curls away from it, ending in a small swirl. The ink is mostly black with light, even linework, and the tattoo is placed against plain skin on a dark background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ivy, the Pearmain trees gave up their last fruit on Tuesday, and Mr Pryce has let the Cox's go to the wasps rather than pay another boy to climb them. I have spent the afternoon sitting on the cart tailboard with my boots off, watching a single small butterfly work the windfalls under the bramley. Its wings were dark and ragged on one side, as if someone had started to draw it in ink and grown bored halfway.

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Mind you, that is not what I meant to write about. You asked in your last what I plan to do now the house is sold, and I have not decided. Yesterday I walked the rows from the gate to the old well, counting, and I found myself pressing dots into the dust with my heel every few steps, just as you used to do when we hunted for the bramble lane. When I looked back, the dots curled off toward the hedge, and at the end of them was a swirl like a spring that had lost its clock.

I followed it. Under the last hedge was the tin box Father buried in 1931, with the lease papers and your christening curl folded inside a handkerchief. Nobody has dug it up since. I sat with it on my knee until the wasps grew tired of me. The butterfly settled on the lid and stayed there while I read the lease, which is worth nothing now, and your curl, which is worth everything.

So I am coming to Carlisle at the end of the month, and I will bring the box. Don't fuss about the train. Leave the kettle on. Your loving sister, Margaret.

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